


So Much Cooler Online

by ImJaebabie



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Gamer AU - Freeform, Getting Together, M/M, dream are gamers!, originated on twt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22535629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJaebabie/pseuds/ImJaebabie
Summary: In Jaemin’s opinion, people underestimate Lee Jeno. Not his gaming; his prowess behind a keyboard is well known and respected. When user LJN0 shows up in a server’s waiting room the scramble to get onto his team is just shy of chaos. It’s not the online Jeno that people don’t get, it’s the real life one. The one no one talks to. In his tracksuit they can’t guess if he has thirty of or just a strong relationship with his dry cleaner, with his classically dorky round glasses and oh, sweet Jesus, that bowl cut hair… the in-the-flesh Lee Jeno gets misjudged.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 55
Kudos: 612





	So Much Cooler Online

**Author's Note:**

> just a few notes:
> 
> if this looks different from my other fics, that is because 1) it originated as a twt au so it was all in tiny nuggets, which makes it feel a teeny bit choppy here, 2) the incredible ms anne (speckledsolanaceae) transcribed from twt for me so please applaud her, i am at her feet in gratitude.
> 
> at one point it is implied lightly that this fictional gaming community isn’t super supportive of lgbtq+. (i don’t know if this is true irl. apologies.) it won’t come up again in any directly damaging way, but just so u know.
> 
> other note uhhhhh gamers r cool people i hope nothing in here makes anyone think otherwise.
> 
> enjoy!

In Jaemin’s opinion, people underestimate Lee Jeno. Not his gaming; his prowess behind a keyboard is well known and respected. When user LJN0 shows up in a server’s waiting room the scramble to get onto his team is just shy of chaos. It’s not the online Jeno that people don’t get, it’s the real life one. The one no one talks to. In his tracksuit they can’t guess if he has thirty of or just a strong relationship with his dry cleaner, with his classically dorky round glasses and oh, sweet Jesus, that bowl cut hair… the in-the-flesh Lee Jeno gets misjudged.

This isn’t just because Jaemin is in love with him. (Renjun claims it’s exactly that. _“Jaemin you twat, how do you fall in love so easily?”_ Renjun’s London accent is less than soothing at times. “Yeah ok, listen, but when he laughs—” _“Oh fuck’s sake, Jaem.”_ )

There’s more to Jeno.

He’ll admit he didn’t get it either, at first. Jaemin came into the gaming community hot and fast and at his first live competition he was just as shocked as anyone else that _that_ was LJN0. The guy squinting at his screen through thick, smudged glasses, not speaking to anyone.

“He’s a loner.”

Jaemin made a face. “We’re gamers,” he replied. “We’re all loners.”

“Worse than us!”

“He doesn’t even cheer when he wins.”

“And he usually wins.”

“Well why don’t you talk to him?” prodded Jaemin.

They laughed. “No thanks. Feel free, though, if you want to try it.”

So Jaemin did try. A people person, Jaemin always gave it the old college go.

“Hey, you’re LJN0, right?”

At first, Jeno didn’t even move. Had he heard him?

“Um, Lee Jeno? That’s your name?”

With a jolt, he’d looked up, eyes wide with shock.

“Yeah.”

“I was on your squad in the PUBG match in April where you got that eleven kill streak—“

Jeno looked confused. “I don’t remember you.”

Well. Jaemin remembered not talking, too awed, but also contributing to the win, so it stung a little.

“No, it’s cool,” he said, “that’s fair. Good luck today.”

“Ok.”

The glances Jaemin got as he returned to his seat said distinctly: we told you.

It made Jaemin want to try again. As luck would have it, fate seemed to agree and at the next tournament Jaemin’s team roster included LJN0 right below his own name.

He quickly claimed the seat beside Jeno, who gave him a slightly confused glance and then ignored him for the entire game, except to state directions so effective Jaemin (and their other two teammates) didn’t question for a moment. When they won (Jeno usually won) Jaemin held out a hand.

“That was sick!”

Jeno frowned but took Jaemin’s hand tentatively, and with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Um, yeah. It was good.”

“How’d you know that guy was camping in that shed? I totally missed him.”

“I...” Jeno paused, glancing around like confused to be talking. “Just had a hunch.”

“Genius.”

“No… just, good instinct.”

Laughing, Jaemin released his hand but offered a friendly smile. “Dude, my instincts are good. Your instincts have their _own_ instincts, they’re that good. Just take the compliment.”

The corner of Jeno’s mouth had twitched. “Um, alright. Thanks.”

Jaemin took the almost-smile with him and mulled over it, and the dark eyes and honest, gentle voice, and by the time another tournament popped up he wasn’t sure if he was looking forward to the competition, or to the new challenge of trying to win a _real_ smile.

He got his answer with the nod and straight-line-tense of lips that Jeno angled his direction when they made eye contact. Though he did his best, Jaemin hardly minded when his team lost the first round. When they won the second, though, he was intrigued to catch Jeno’s assessing gaze.

“You used my tactic from two months ago.”

Rounds over, Jaemin’s team with the win, Jeno found him, nearly giving Jaemin a stroke in surprise.

“I pick strategy up quick. Yours is the best.”

Jeno’s lips twisted, unsure. “Copycat.”

Jaemin raised a curled hand. “Meow.”

And Jeno, well, laughed.

That was the moment, in hindsight. The one that got Jaemin hook, line, and sinker. When Jeno’s eyes crinkled from surprise into sweet crescent moons and his nose wrinkled and he laughed, dorky and awkward, and still with that awful haircut. 

Jaemin fell.

He wasn’t always put on Jeno’s team but Jaemin didn’t miss an opportunity to talk to him, to see if Jeno had a new game other than the tourney one he was into, to try and make him laugh again. When it worked, Jaemin’s stomach fluttered. Every event was his new favorite.

And Jeno opened up, slowly. Accompanying Jaemin to the coffee table during breaks even though he only drank water. Sliding Jaemin snacks across the table when they teamed up. He even showed Jaemin pictures of his cats that lived at his mom’s house. Though LJN0 was a PUBG legend, Lee Jeno was a hidden gem, a charming secret, even if he stuttered when anyone else talked to him or usually said the wrong thing.

_“You going again next month?”_ Renjun asked, his voice crisp over Jaemin’s expensive headset.

“For sure. Jeno might break an all-time kill-ratio record, I have to be there to see it!”

_“Mate, you really are wasted.”_

“Don’t be jealous, sweetie, I still love you.”

Renjun laughed. _“Don’t make me gag, Na.”_

Every event got Jaemin excited, but the next one was charged the moment he entered the room. Identifying the cause took a minute.

FullSun. Jaemin knew the history of their league. He saw the articles. And he wasn’t surprised that on a day LJN0 had a shot at record breaking, the previous record-holder would be present.

The way Jeno wouldn’t look at FullSun was concerning, though. Not on his team, Jaemin brushed by the table to squeeze Jeno’s shoulder, which made him jump then relax only after seeing Jaemin.

“You’re gonna kamikaze that record,” Jaemin said.

Jeno’s eyes flitted away, then down to his keyboard. “Maybe.”

“Jen, you’re so close, you can’t not. I’m excited!”

“You are?”

Jaemin grinned, lopsided. “Yeah. You got this.”

He had to leave as the buzzer sounded, but he didn’t miss the light dusting of pink on Jeno’s cheeks, nor did he miss the frown on FullSun’s face by the judges table.

“What’s with FS?” he asked his teammate.

The girl snorted. “Probably not pleased LJN0 is gonna take his record. Donghyuck can’t play as often anymore. And of all people, his ex? Ouch.”

Jaemin froze. “Ex?”

“Amazing, you didn’t know? They’re both gay. Bold, for this community. Hyuck gets away with it ‘cause he’s a cute demon but Jeno...” She grimaced. “Well. You know. He’s kinda weird.”

Jaemin looked back at Jeno, part basking in the revelation and part awed that people looked at his broad shoulders, strong chin, elegant hands—missed his sweet personality entirely—and instead still chose to concentrate on the awkward demeanor.

He broke the record. The room exploded, even knowing it would happen. But Jeno just looked resigned, offered a half-hearted, close-mouthed smile, and collected himself to leave.

Jaemin followed, catching Jeno just at the door.

“You’re amazing!”

Jeno looked past him to the judges table, his hands fidgeting. “Wouldn’t call it an amazing game.”

“No, I said you. You are amazing, Jen,” Jaemin pressed, stepping to block his line of sight. “Let me buy you dinner to celebrate.”

After regarding Jaemin silently for a minute, Jeno bit his lip. “Why though?”

And Jaemin? He’d never been good at hiding his crushes. “Because I like you.”

“I’m not… likable, you know.”

Being gentle to unbend Jeno’s fingers from around his custom headset, Jaemin took his hand. “Don’t know who told you that—” (he had a suspicion) “—but I find you very likable.”

Jeno kept relatively quiet while Jaemin found a ramen shop nearby. The reality of most events requiring travel meant some challenge on geographic familiarity, but eventually they had food and Jeno seemed to warm up the more broth he sipped. Jaemin ate slowly, studying Jeno’s face.

“Why do you like me?” Jeno asked suddenly, pausing his chopsticks.

Jaemin shrugged. “You’re really humble. And you include everyone in the game, even if they don’t realize you’re handing them shots. You’re respectful and kind. You’re sweet. Which part shouldn’t I like?”

In a Minecraft hoodie shadowing his eyes, Jeno hummed, like he’d never heard that before. It occurred to Jaemin, maybe he hadn’t.

He reached over the table and tugged a hoodie string. “Do you… like me?”

Jeno glanced up, looking through the straight-cut fringe. “... Can I?”

“You can do anything.”

Slowly, Jeno raised his hand to enclose Jaemin’s. “Then I like you.”

Laughter bubbled out of Jaemin, incredulous. “I can’t believe you just said that. Here I’ve been idolizing you, and you didn’t even remember me when we first met in person.”

Jeno smiled, small. “I misspoke. I knew your sn from your nametag. I just didn’t picture RagNaRok with bubblegum hair and a pretty smile.”

“Oh my god. Lee Jeno, did you call me pretty?”

“Never mind. I’m eating.” But he didn’t let go of Jaemin’s hand, using his left to eat and flexing ambidextrous as well.

Living in different cities sucked, even if Jaemin spent most of his time in game lobbies talking to Jeno anyway, trying to identify similarities between the boy and the avatar. He was endlessly amused by how Jeno tended to make his avi stereotypically badass looking. It was cute.

And Renjun stopped complaining about being ignored as bff once Jaemin convinced Jeno to join them on team games. Renjun liked winning more often.

When the next event drew close, Jeno sent him a message.

_“Tourney is in my city,”_ he said. _“Want to save hotel costs?”_

Jaemin blinked.

He didn’t register most of the event. He wasn’t really sure who won the first day, since it was a bigger event a full day longer, and he was going to Jeno’s house that night.

It turned out to be an apartment, Jeno the only occupant.

And Jaemin struggled to take it in.

“Put your bag wherever,” Jeno said, and Jaemin hesitated.

There was… nothing. The space itself a huge, open and newly built studio. While Jeno excused himself to change, Jaemin poked around. A fridge of premade meals. A tv table and folding chair next to a futon in the undefined living room.

Decorations didn’t seem to exist in Jeno’s reality, nor basic furnishings. Jaemin tried and failed to find a hanger for his jacket or a mat to put his shoes on. He gave up, following him to one of the three rooms not open to the larger space. “Jen, babe, this is concerning. I am concerned. Tell me you have a vacuum.”

He pushed into the room with the light on and froze as if iced over. Jeno finished pulling his T-shirt over his head, but Jaemin had already seen enough. Too much. Lines. Muscles? Hip bones.

“Um, I have a broom, I think,” Jeno said.

Jaemin tried to clear his dry throat as Jeno slid past him out the door. “How do you live like this?”

“Like what?”

A glance at the room Jeno just left made Jaemin relieved but also not. At least there was a bed. The closet held ten or so almost identical tracksuits. He had shoes.

He followed Jeno back out to the vague concept of a kitchen where he was cracking open a water bottle.

“Jeno. This is not how people live.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Jaemin flattened his lips together. “Can I make some tea?”

“I guess?”

“Where’s your kettle?”

“Kettle...”

“Jeno.”

The gamer set down his water bottle and frowned. “What? We can order tea if you want it. Do you want food? Chicken is closest.”

Jaemin liked him very much. He tried very hard not to scream at him in crazed, baffled disbelief.

“Come on, I wanna show you.” Jeno left the kitchen and led a frazzled Jaemin through the utterly barren apartment to another room. He opened the door and Jaemin’s jaw unhinged itself in favor of finding the carpetless floor at the threshold. 

Calling the space a gaming room seemed irreverent. The place was a haven. A paradise. A palace of video gaming.

He didn’t know what to look at first. The obvious focus point was the triple-32-inch curved monitors nestled in the custom built display desk, trunked by a console and game organizer that lacked nothing. Muted purple ambient lighting glowed behind it and in points elsewhere too.

The walls seemed to suck sound away, padded with color coordinated soundproofing that ran all the way down to the floor where it met plush carpet in a pretty French vanilla bean color. Yet, top of the line speakers sat secured to the wall and in tasteful stacks in the corner.

Next to them, a stocked mini fridge (mostly water, but also juices and a collection of yogurts and wrapped sandwiches) and a set of shelves with neat bins of cords and accessories. 

Then...the chair. Jaemin teared up. He’d lusted over the exact model before. Costly like...well.

Like someone who consistently won first place at frequent tournaments could afford. The whole room was. Down to the stylish yet comfy looking chaise lounge opposite the gaming desk.

This was where Jeno sat down. “What do you think? I have this here for naps,” he asked, patting the seat.

Jaemin drifted to the desk and touched it with reverence. Jeno’s keyboard had rainbow backlighting. The wrist-rest had a worn spot in the middle. Wordless, Jaemin glanced at the chair.

“You can sit in it, if you want.”

Jaemin did want. The seat gave just a degree under him.

It was comfort in another level. In perfect clarity, Jaemin could understand now why Jeno didn’t give a single fuck about the rest of his house. He had Shangri La. He didn’t need a kettle. Jaemin laughed out loud at the thought.

Jeno chuckled in an echo. “Jaemin?”

Jaemin stood.

A shadow of nerves hovered on Jeno’s brow. “Do you like it?” he asked.

Jaemin couldn’t help smiling. “This is fucking awesome. The best!”

Then Jeno relaxed, his shoulders sinking as he leaned back into the lounge. “The plants are from my mom,” he added, and only then did Jaemin notice the succulents and spider plants that dotted the room. Not only was it cool, it was homey, too. Even a framed picture of Jeno’s cats sat next to one monitor.

Jeno sighed and then, unexpectedly pulled a long elastic from his pocket. He looped it over his head and pushed it back to hold his hair, leaving his face bare like he’d just washed it.

Jaemin stared, at once amused and severely attracted to this dorky gamer boy.

“Do you want food still? Or we can game, or—“

Jaemin crossed the room in a stride and straddled Jeno’s lap. “Nah, that can wait.”

Breathing stopped being a priority for Jeno, it seemed, so Jaemin rubbed his shoulders, guided his hands to Jaemin’s waist.

“Can I kiss you? I really want to,” Jaemin said.

Jeno fixed his eyes to Jaemin’s lips. “Um. I haven’t...kissed anyone in a while...not since...”

“I don’t care. I just want my lips and your lips touching. Basic. Level one. You don’t have to be a pro at this, Jen,” Jaemin assured him.

“Yeah. Ok.”

Jaemin didn’t need more. He kissed Jeno like he’d been waiting for the chance, which he had. For ages. And it was worth the wait.

Jeno held his waist securely and Jaemin just reveled in how comfortable Jeno was in every conceivable way. Down to his truly impressive thighs. That was not gamer normal.

“Jen,” Jaemin said between kisses, “are you like, ripped? The fuck, dude.”

Jeno wheezed. “No I… I jog.”

“Jog. Jog? Like. Around the neighborhood?” Moving to mouth at Jeno’s neck, Jaemin puzzled over the revelation.

“Usually the gym. My mom is afraid of blood clots from the gaming. I’m not big on calisthenics though.”

“That is a very big word.”

“I prefer weights.”

Jaemin’s brain supplied that he’d be very happy to test out just how much Jeno could bench. But he settled for letting his hands wander over Jeno’s arms while moving back to kiss his lips again.

Then Jeno said, “I don’t get it. How are you real. Here. With me? It doesn’t add up.”

Jaemin sat back on Jeno’s knees and cradled his face, brushing thumbs over his sharp cheekbones.

“We’re not a math problem, Jen. I like you, so I want to be here, with you, kissing you.”

“I’m not too weird?”

Jaemin groaned. “Seriously? How many kisses till you’re convinced?”

Biting his lip, Jeno said, “I don’t know, maybe...six?”

“Rhetorical question, babe,” Jaemin clarified, removing Jeno’s glasses and shifting further into his lap. “Come here.”

Coaxing Jeno into reacting took effort, but once Jaemin got to nibbling his lip Jeno’s hands slid up the back of Jaemin’s long-sleeve and traced his shoulder blades.

“There you go,” sighed Jaemin into his mouth.

“Can’t believe,” Jeno breathed, “I’m allowed to touch you.”

“Believe it and put it into practice, sweetheart. I know you have talented hands.”

Jeno shuddered.

Then, he moved, gripping the bend of Jaemin’s knees and twisting to land Jaemin on the chaise, leave him looking up at Jeno bracing his hands on the arm rest that now supported Jaemin’s head. The violet ambiance highlighted his skin and Jaemin felt the breath punched out of him.

“Wow, immediate direct action.”

Jeno bent down to ghost a kiss below Jaemin’s eye. “Shot was open.”

“Are you comparing making out with me to video gam—“

Huffing a laugh, Jeno swallowed up the rest of that sentence, leaning into Jaemin as his arms snaked around Jeno’s neck.

If Jeno was anything, he was strategic. He generated his own and was malleable to others, and it showed in his smooth responses and adaptation to every move Jaemin made. Wild that, aside from gaming, the second talent of the boy perceived as most awkward was ravishing kisses.

Jaemin couldn’t dream up a better boyfriend. He could only get lost in Jeno’s touch and imagine how best to keep him.

Mid-hickey, a sound tumbled into the room otherwise filled only with their breaths, and Jaemin exclaimed. “Was that your stomach?!”

Jeno dropped his forehead onto Jaemin’s shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say you were hungry?!”

“I said we could order food.”

“That’s not the same thing!”

Jeno shrugged. “Well, then you kissed me.”

“Fuck yeah, I did. Get up, we’re getting chicken, stat.”

Moving without protest, Jeno rolled off Jaemin and dug his phone out, composing an order while Jaemin tried to compose himself and not fixate on how ruffled Jeno looked.

“Should be here in thirty,” Jeno said, tossing Jaemin a smile. “What d'you wanna do till then?”

They blinked at each other, Jaemin’s hand twitching against his thigh.

The decision was pretty easy.

“Oh shit, right there, right there!” Jaemin breathed, excited.

“I know, hold still,” Jeno instructed back.

Jaemin whined. It was hard not to flex his own hands like he had control of the mouse and keys. But he didn’t; Jeno was the one playing while Jaemin watched the screen over his shoulder, backseat-gaming whenever he saw a player to aim at. Jeno of course already had them in scope; Jaemin just got to enjoy the show from the comfort of Jeno’s amazing gaming chair with Jeno relaxed on his lap, using Jaemin like a pillow.

The door buzzed just as the game timer ran out. Jaemin took advantage of the opportunity to push Jeno’s ass—“Really.” “I’m helping you up!”—and then followed him to the door. On the other side, a lanky kid with a steaming delivery bag smiled shyly to see Jeno.

“Thanks, Jisung.”

The kid looked shocked to see Jaemin, but recovered. “Good luck tomorrow, Jeno. I know you’ll win!” With a blush, the kid disappeared and Jeno closed the door like fawning delivery boys were normal for him.

“Oh my god. You have fanboys,” Jaemin noted, ecstatic.

“Jisung’s cool.”

“He looked like he was gonna pass out.”

Jeno looked surprised. “Really? I see him like twice a week.”

Taking the container of chicken, Jaemin chuckled and shook his head. “Are you friends?”

Confusion filled Jeno’s face. “Friends?”

“Yeah, do you hang out? He clearly likes gaming.”

“I never considered… you think?”

Leave it to Jeno to not see a friend right in front of his face. Jaemin wanted to pat him on the head. He did it. “Invite him in sometime. Bet your setup will make him cry. Now let’s eat, I’m actually starving to death.”

After eating in the middle of the floor, Jaemin felt like _he_ was going to pass out.

Jeno sighed, content. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah, early match tomorrow. I’ll take the futon,” replied Jaemin, rolling to crawl towards the lone piece of furniture.

“Oh you’re… not… the bed?”

“Jeno, I’m not gonna take your bed. It’s literally the only thing you have,” Jaemin said, pointing out the obvious as he gestured to the nearly empty room.

Jeno chewed his lip, fiddling with a napkin covered in grease.

“No, I mean. You can share? It’s a big bed.”

It was a big bed. Not that Jaemin would have cared.

It could be several paper towels near each other on the floor, and if Jeno called it a bed and wanted to share it with him, Jaemin would say yes.

“Are you comfortable with that?” he asked.

“I’m pretty much always alone, Jaemin. I think it’d be really nice to sleep beside someone.

As long as you’re ok with it.”

Jaemin sat quietly for a second. He felt pretty sure there wasn’t another implication there, and found he was happy with that, because Jeno looked like the idea of simply sleeping together was the biggest thing he could ask of Jaemin. Just proximity.

“Are you gonna cuddle me?” Jaemin asked with a wink, by way of answer.

Jeno blushed. “Well, if you want.”

“Yeah, it’s my turn. You sat on me for almost forty minutes. My leg was going numb.”

“I’m not that heavy!”

“You’re not that light either! Ugh, come on LJN0, let’s go to bed.”

Usually Jaemin didn’t have trouble sleeping. Maybe he didn’t go to sleep till ungodly late, but he could go from conscious to out in a split second.

Next to Jeno, not so much. Less because he couldn’t, than that he didn’t want to. Jeno went out like a light but his soft breathing and the thin shadows his long eyelashes cast on his cheeks kept Jaemin up much longer. He had just one night and he didnt care if using it to relish Jeno’s arms around him made him tired the next day. That was just gaming. This? This was falling in love, and Jaemin liked the descent.

Jaemin peered at the email, willing it to make sense. It had been a few weeks since seeing Jeno, since waking up next to him and brushing the fringe out of his sleepy eyes, and this email was trying to tell Jaemin he wasn’t on the same tournament roster anymore.

_“Jaemsie, it’s gonna be fine,”_ Renjun tried to argue. _“There’s nationals and such, isn’t there?”_

“How can the league just… split in half?”

Group A and Group B. The league chopped in two due to “over capacity,” and given separate tournament schedules and locations.

“I hate it.”

Renjun hummed. _“Just go visit him?”_

“When? We’re booked out solid in different cities for...forever.” Jaemin laid his head on his mousepad and whimpered. “I want kiss.”

_“Gross. Look, it’s gonna be ok, mate.”_

“How.”

_“Um. Right well, I don’t know. You can still FaceTime?”_

Speaking of, Jaemin’s phone was ringing. Jeno.

“Gotta jet, Junnie.” Jaemin smooched his mic and signed out, tearing his headset away to answer the call.

“I’m upset,” he said immediately.

Jeno groaned. _“Can one of us switch Groups?”_

“Nah, it’s geographic. I emailed the director.”

_“We’ll figure something out,”_ Jeno assured.

Easier said than done. Three months and three competitions apart saw them grasping at straws. Lots of FaceTime, and one near miss where Jeno’s layover went through Jaemin’s airport but Jaemin had a match elsewhere.

Jaemin got creative.

_“Jaemin. Did you mail me a rug?”_

“You got my gift! So, you like it?”

Jeno blinked at him through the screen. _“What am I supposed to do with a rug?”_

“Oh y’know. Take it for a walk. Make sure it gets enough sun. God, Jeno, put it on the floor, what did you think?” Jaemin laughed.

_“I don’t need a rug.”_

Jaemin sighed. “You’ll think of me when you see it, though.” And Jeno DID need a rug.

_“I already think of you.”_

“Well, then you can lie down on the Jaemin rug and think of Jaemin and it’ll be compounded.”

_“Isn’t that kind of creepy?”_

“Only if you hump it.”

_“Jaemin!”_

Giggling, he swiveled in his much less cool chair than Jeno’s and wished he was there.

“Nationals are when?”

Jeno hummed. _“Four more months.”_

“Good god. I can’t wait four months to kiss you!”

A big pout on his face, Jeno mimicked crying. _“I don’t know what to do.”_

That was the thing. They really couldn’t find an option to meet. Not with Jaemin’s day job and the toll of travel they already bore.

The one upside was that Jaemin won a lot more in the league half where he wasn’t up against Jeno. Though not par to LJN0, user RagNaRok grew in fame.

That was good. He could put the prize money away, save it for an eventual trip to Jeno.

His competition circuit was mostly quiet, then one month before nationals, Jaemin walked onto the gaming floor and stopped.

“Quite the up and coming champion, aren’t you?” FullSun grinned.

He’d never talked to Donghyuck before. Granted, FullSun hadn’t competed for a while either, and Jaemin was fairly new.

“I’m holding my own.”

“You’ve got good stats.”

Jaemin let the conversation lag, unsure how to mesh what he knew with the person in front of him.

Donghyuck’s sweet smile dwindled. He shuffled his Adidas and exhaled. “Look.”

Ah. “Yeah?”

“I know he’s been… happier. Since you showed up.”

He _knew_ who, but—“He?”

“LJ—you know who,” Donghyuck said, huffing and averting his eyes. “Not right now, though.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I went to a few events in his circuit. It’s pretty obvious he misses you. He’s talking to other players, though, which is surprising but I guess maybe you’re rubbing off on him or something.”

That surprised Jaemin, too, but didn’t answer why Donghyuck was there reporting on Jeno to him.

“Donghyuck, why are you telling me this?”

The previous champ pulled a sour face, then sighed. “We didn’t...work, him and me. I know you know. But I care, even if I hurt him. So I just wanted you to know, I’m glad he has you now. It seems good.”

“I… uh, thank you.” Jaemin felt a loss for words. Jeno hadn’t opened up much about this topic yet, but still he didn’t expect this.

Donghyuck nodded. “Sucks you got split circuits. If only you lived closer, right?”

A haze of fine yellow suddenly powdered Jaemin’s brain. 

Oh.

Leading up to Nationals, it was all Jaemin could think about. What if. What if he just moved closer. Could he do that? Maybe it was crazy. What if it freaked Jeno out? What if it felt like an invasion into his territory? Could Jaemin even afford to relocate his whole life?

At an event, Jaemin ran into an old squad pal of his. He used to run with user MrPresident a couple times a week, until the gamer decided to get into the league for a different game.

“I just came by for old times,” he said with an impish grin.

“You can say you missed me, Chenle.”

The boy laughed. “Whatever. I think I’ll show up at the Nationals ball. Crash it just for fun.”

Jaemin hadn’t even thought about the ball. He got excited thinking of seeing Jeno at that kind of thing. “Cool, you can hang with me and Jeno. It’ll be chill.”

Chenle eyed him. “LJN0?”

“That’s the one.”

“He doesn’t go to those.”

That was news to Jaemin. “He doesn’t?”

“None I ever went to. You guys friends?”

Chenle had predated Jaemin in the circuit, so he would know. Jeno must have not enjoyed the socializing. Would he go this time?

“Something like that, yeah.”

Qualifiers for Nationals hit like getting run over by a fortnite baller. Jeno video called as he could, but Jaemin understood; during those weeks, it was just an endless series of instant disqual rounds and they both seemed to realize they’d have to qualify to even go together.

Jaemin didn’t think. He just breathed and lived the game, vibing on energy drink fumes and Reddit strategy threads.

Then, it was Nationals.

“Let’s go a night early,” Jaemin suggested, vibrating inside his skin after months without being able to touch Jeno’s hand.

_“I can’t,”_ Jeno said. _“I can’t go early,”_ he clarified, after Jaemin’s stunned silence, somehow managing to read his mind and realize he thought Jeno meant go at all. _“My mom is visiting and leaves that night. I’ll have to meet you at check in.”_

Jaemin pouted. “Well, that can’t be helped.”

He was sorely tempted to ask about sharing a hotel room, but the tournament reserved them on behalf of the qualifiers, and one night in the same bed seven months ago was not enough to presume on. Jaemin was beginning to wonder if he’d hallucinated that night after all.

That thought vanished the second he caught sight of Jeno hovering in the conference center lobby, worrying the straps of his backpack and blinking around from behind his glasses. Jaemin didn’t even think before jogging up and throwing his arms around him. Jeno froze then relaxed.

“You scared me.”

Jaemin nuzzled his head against Jeno’s shoulder. “Hello. You’re here.”

“That’s true.”

“Can I kiss you here? No, wait,” Jaemin retracted at Jeno’s worried expression, “we’ve got rounds. Can’t get psyched out before those. I’ll wait.”

“Sorry.”

“No it’s fine!”

In reality, Jaemin could feel all his blood thrumming inside his veins just feeling Jeno’s body heat.

It wasn’t until hours later, working their way through different semifinal matches, that Jaemin realized he wanted to feel that way constantly. He wanted to move, he was sure.

Day 1 was a blur of matches, fast-paced to-the-death rounds between top league players. Maybe due to the circuit changes, or just lucky roster draws, but Jaemin didn’t face off with Jeno, and though it meant they barely saw each other all day, they both qualified for Day2 finals.

Exhaustion swept in after it all. While waiting for room service in Jeno’s king bed, Jaemin tried not to fidget too much while Jeno talked about the last time Jisung came to hangout.

“You’ll see him tomorrow,” Jeno said. “He got hired for the ball wait staff just to attend here.”

“Oh fun. I bet he’s pumped.”

“Ecstatic. Kinda crazed actually.”

A knock on the door, and they had overpriced hamburgers and fries. Jaemin wanted to eat, but finally being next to Jeno, in a bed no less, gave him too many butterflies. Once Jeno was left just picking at leftovers Jaemin couldn’t help it anymore. “I missed you a lot,” he said, which felt weak.

Jeno turned a hummed smile back. “Yeah me too.”

From his spot lounging, Jaemin reached to run his fingers down the inside of Jeno’s forearm. He whispered, small, “Now is it okay to kiss you?”

Instead of words, Jeno took Jaemin’s chin in the pinch of his fingers and slotted their lips together. Even if it tasted a little salty and tinged with tomato, Jaemin felt immediately deliriously content.

The bed shifted as Jeno rolled overtop of him, letting Jaemin pull his hip.

Jaemin idly wondered how he’d ever found Jeno awkward. Shy, reserved, cutely dorky. But nothing was awkward pressed together into a feather duvet, losing his breath to Jeno’s plush lips and losing count of his heartbeats. It wasn’t awkward, it was heaven on earth.

“I really like you,” Jeno murmured, unprompted, following with a smooch.

It felt like Jaemin’s chest would burst open. “No, you,” he said, reflexive.

“Huh?”

“I like you too. I like seeing you across the room. I like your smile.” He kept talking, so Jeno drifted to kiss his jaw.

Jaemin continued. “I want to see it all the time. I’ve been thinking.”

“Mm?”

Fighting the distraction of Jeno’s hand kneading at his side, Jaemin pressed on. “Long distance isn’t working for me. So maybe I should just move closer so we can be in the same circuit and whatever.”

Jeno paused, easing away from Jaemin to look at him. “Move… closer?”

“Yeah, if… if you’d be on board with that… if not there’s really no point.” Jaemin’s nerves did a jig while Jeno looked at him, squinting a bit without his glasses.

“Where would you live, though?”

An invisible force squeezed Jaemin’s lungs. So much hesitance in Jeno’s voice.

“I can find a place. No biggie. And selling software online is a remote job so I’m not worried about that.”

Jeno nodded, absent-minded fingers twisting Jaemin’s shirt hem while he pondered silently.

“Can I have some time to think about it?”

“Y-yeah, of course, I mean I just threw it at you out of nowhere, haha.” The attempt at a laugh did not ease Jaemin’s anxiety over the unenthusiastic response to his idea, and the need to flee the room arose. He needed thinking space.

“Hey I’m beat, I’m gonna go to my room, you should rest too.” He extricated himself and Jeno let him with only a mildly confused look, his hair falling in his eyes.

Jaemin let himself brush it aside. “Goodnight, you’re gonna be fantastic tomorrow,” he said.

Jeno smiled. “You too.”

Jaemin didn’t usually have trouble sleeping. But he did that night, knowing Jeno was close but not close enough, and holding the weight of putting himself out that far only to need to wait on an answer.

Day 2 came inevitably and Jaemin kept a stranglehold on his coffee thermos and only peripherally registered the other players in the game as they went through the first rounds. Each time he won, and a couple were uncomfortably close calls, he nervously watched the roster for the next matchup, then felt both relieved and disappointed when it wasn’t Jeno.

At least they were in the same room, all finalists gathered and positioned behind high-end monitors. It made it hard to recognize people, but Jaemin could pick Jeno’s endearing haircut out of any crowd.

At midmorning the girl next to Jaemin—user Clutch, sometimes CLC for short—got disqual’d. She cursed, shoving her mouse away.

“Sorry, Yeeun, good game though,” Jaemin offered.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “your bf took me out. Not to be petty, but I kinda hope Lionheart takes him down when they face off.”

The username didn’t ring a bell. “Who?”

“You know judge Lee?”

“Taeyong? Yeah, who doesn’t know Tracker?” ‘Legendary’ barely covered the retired player.

“Lionheart’s his little bro, Mark. Registered two months before qualifiers and snagged a rank just two points below LJN0. I’d be nervous as fuck if I were Jeno.”

Jaemin ignored the implication that this Lionheart was the only real competition Jeno had—Jaemin liked to think he stood a chance, even if he didn’t care too much in the end—and focused on the realization that he hadn’t even asked Jeno about his worries going into Nationals.

A cup of hot coffee settled next to Jaemin’s hand, and he looked up to see Jeno lightly smiling.

Yeeun hmphed. “Guess you weren’t feeling merciful today, LJ?”

“Sorry, it’s Nationals.”

She glanced at the coffee and Jaemin. “Will you say the same when you go up against Jaemin?”

Jeno’s brow tightened. “Probably.”

Laughing, Yeeun shook her head and saluted them both as she cleared off her station.

Cradling the coffee, Jaemin stole a sheepish look at Jeno. So many things he wanted ask, but he settled for: “Why didn’t you tell me about Lionheart?”

“Mark? Oh… I guess… he appeared so fast in my circuit… I guess I thought you probably saw the articles on the league message boards.”

Jaemin hadn’t checked them in ages, despite previously having the league site as his homepage. “I didn’t. Are you worried?”

“He’s really good.”

“Which one is he?”

Looking over his shoulder, Jeno pointed at a guy with round, innocent eyes and a seemingly constant need to bite at his own lip. Strong resemblances to Tracker behavior. Jaemin would never have ID’d him as a major competitor. He looked like a cute baby lion, with dyed blonde hair all wild, but no Lionheart. Then again, speaking as RagNaRok and knowing LJN0, appearances could be deceiving.

Jeno fidgeted with the headset hooked on his neck. “I’m gonna sit down. Next match is in five.”

Jaemin nodded; refraining from saying more.

Two rounds later, the roster listed a new matchup: RagNaRok vs Lionheart.

Jaemin had used a break to look up his stats earlier, and felt the fear of god settle in his chest. A glance at Jeno told him he was right to worry; Jeno looked scared for him.

But Jaemin had a thought.

If he could beat Lionheart somehow, Jeno could relax. Jaemin could remove an entire stressor from Jeno’s plate and all he had to do was survive one more round. Within the top 5, he was already guaranteed some prize money, and if Jeno then beat him he didn’t really lose much.

Jaemin did not beat Mark. As if he was watching Jaemin’s screen somehow instead, Lionheart seemed to know where Jaemin was before Jaemin even took his surroundings in, and when the round ended he sat stunned while the leaderboard moved Mark’s name forward. Jaemin was out.

His phone buzzed. A message from Renjun, undoubtedly watching the livestream.

**KnifeMoomin:** well. that was brutal.

Jaemin snorted.

**RNR:** thanks for the support.

**KnifeMoomin:** :* :* hows LJN0

**RNR:** too much to go into now but uhhh maybe i fucked up

**KnifeMoomin:** as clowns do

**RNR:** shut

For the two remaining rounds, Jaemin moved over to the spectating section, a thumbs up all he was able to offer Jeno from there. Jeno mouthed “sorry,” as if Jaemin losing was his fault somehow, but Jaemin shook his head back.

Then Jaemin watched Jeno slip into concentration mode.

Lionheart vs TinyDancer went as expected. Watching Mark play made Jaemin shiver, seeing the round eyes narrow and his mouth set into a thin line as he raced around the map.

It was similar for LJN0 vs Harbinger, though Jeno’s expressions remained unreadable as he chased his match.

Then it was the final round, spectators on the edges of their seats and the room rearranged to put them head to head, facing just for the drama. Jeno always looked collected, but in those minutes Jaemin saw the way he kept adjusting his glasses, nervous.

Watching them play was like watching a cage match. Both of them the predator and the prey at once, circling around a map of empty warehouses and exclusive prize loot boxes. LJN0 dodged a grenade that should’ve torn through him, and Lionheart used a secret passage no one knew was even on the map. It humbled Jaemin, even as a top 5 player, to watch the two narrowly avoid each other’s attacks.

Then, Jaemin felt his heart drop into his stomach. Lionheart grappled up to a coveted high point and LJN0 flitted below, and in a moment Jaemin knew Jeno was trapped. The whole crowd kept deathly silent; there were safeguards to keep the crowd from assisting the players, but the audience still held its breath. Jeno had once chance, Jaemin knew. If he sprinted at the right angle fast enough, Mark would only have one shot at him.

If LJN0 could dodge it, he’d be safe inside and would force Lionheart to come down. And Jaemin knew Jeno was smart enough to see it.

LJN0 turned and darted out. Lionheart’s scope zeroed immediately. Jaemin held his breath. The shot sounded. LJN0 ducked.

Pin drop silence filled the room. Jaemin felt his stomach drop.

The overhead screen showed Lionheart with a kill shot on LJN0.

Jeno ducked a millisecond too late, his LJN0 avatar infinitesimally too slow, and Mark was too good to miss. Winner winner chicken dinner for Mark.

Of course, cheering soon followed, celebrating for Mark’s fans, and the two stood to shake hands. Jeno didn’t even look especially bummed, still smiling sweetly and accepting congratulations for his second place overall. It was a good match, a good tournament, undeniably.

Another buzz in Jaemin’s phone.

**KnifeMoomin:** bummer for jeno :(

**RNR:** yeah, still need to talk to him

**KnifeMoomin:** k. Lionheart is uh. cute tho?

**RNR:** owo?

**KnifeMoomin:** goodbye

Smirking, Jaemin shut his phone and clambered through the crowd to find Jeno among the sea of fans.

“Jen! Jen—” Jaemin squeezed through the congratulatory mass to him, finally getting a hold of the polyester sleeve of his navy tracksuit. “Hi.”

Jeno smiled, modest. “Hi.”

“You’re still amazing,” Jaemin said, because he still meant it.

“Second is pretty good. Mark is… damn.”

Jaemin couldn’t recall having ever heard Jeno curse before. His mouth dropped open. “Lee Jeno. That was a bad word!”

“Well I did lose.” As he said it, Jeno showed a hint of the disappointment and exhaustion that came with the adrenaline crash. “I think I need a nap.”

“Then go take one. I’ll see you later?”

Head tilting, Jeno quirked an eyebrow at Jaemin. “You don’t want to come with?”

Jaemin’s hoodie felt a little too warm for the room suddenly. “I won’t keep you awake?”

“Jaemin, the best sleep of my life was next to you.” Jeno took his hand.

It took a while to extricate from the game floor and find the elevators, and on the ride up Jeno described his thoughts from the match, which were far more calm than Jaemin had felt when Mark beat him.

Soon enough they were back in Jeno’s room, kicking off shoes and collapsing into the pillows. Jaemin tossed his hoodie onto the chair and rolled over, only to have Jeno shimmy up close and tuck under his chin. His heart roared, and Jaemin wondered at the frequency with which spending time alone together ended up in a bed. Not that he minded.

He wanted to ask about the moving thing again. But Jeno hadn’t so much as mentioned it all day, and the thought that maybe he had forgotten or was pretending it hadn’t happened bothered Jaemin. But jeno had also just lost Nationals by a hair, and he didn’t want to press him.

“I guess we only have a couple of hours,” Jeno murmured, curling his fingers into the fabric at Jaemin’s chest.

Eyes growing heavy, Jaemin struggled to follow. “Till what?”

“The dance thing.”

The… what? Jaemin puzzled. Dance thing...dance...oh. The ball. He’d entirely forgotten.

“Well we don’t have to go.”

“Why wouldn’t we go?”

Jaemin ran his hands over Jeno’s back in a soothing motion. “I thought you don’t like that stuff? Social events?”

“I just didn’t know people before.”

Picturing shy, hesitant Jeno avoiding the parties made Jaemin’s heart melt.

“Also the food’s free.”

That made Jaemin chuckle, settling his chin into Jeno’s hair and exhaling.

“Stop wasting your nap time.”

Jeno tightened his arms around Jaemin and hummed, drifting off.

Jaemin waited till an hour before the ball to wake him up again, so he could rest.

Even then, Jeno looked tired, but Jaemin had to go change regardless.

“I’ll meet you down there,” Jeno yawned as Jaemin tugged his shoes back on.

He paused to kiss Jeno’s forehead. “It’s a date.”

Then, he hurried. The event wasn’t formal, but the invite did mention dressing up.

An hour later, Jaemin stood just inside the door to the ballroom, watching the door for Jeno. At already five minutes past the agreed meeting time, he couldn’t help anxiously tearing at the napkin around his drink glass.

“Hey! Jaemin!”

He turned, pleasantly amused to see Chenle there as promised, “crashing” the event as if his user wasn’t known enough to show up where he felt like.

“Nice job today, fifth is pretty good for only your first Nationals,” Chenle congratulated.

“Ah thanks. It was fun.” Jaemin kept one eye on the door, and Chenle was observant.

“I hear you’re a bit more than friends with the infamous LJN0.”

Jaemin coughed. “Well...yeah.”

“Smart. Always date a winner,” Chenle said. “Where is he?”

“We were supposed to meet here almost 10 minutes ago.” Jaemin frowned, folding the sleeve of his button-down to see his watch.

“Is… that him?”

At Chenle’s word, Jaemin looked up, scanning the few people just entering. And hey, one was Jisung! in a crisp waitstaff uniform, waking just behind...

Jaemin blinked several times, his neck growing warm. He took a deep breath.

“That’s him, that is Lee Jeno.”

It had not occurred to Jaemin that Jeno might wear something other than a coordinated tracksuit to this event. It made sense, that was normal, but Jeno didn’t do most normal things. So the sight of him in dark jeans and a sleek blazer, his hair pushed back, had Jaemin slipping.

“I’m late, I’m sorry,” Jeno said immediately. He was wearing a polo shirt below the blazer.

_I’m going to scream—_ Jaemin nearly said, but managed, “No worries! Jisung, hey!”

Jisung stood frozen still, eyes huge looking between Jaemin and Chenle. “RagNaRok… MrPresident… ohmygod.”

With a laugh, Chenle reached to clap him on the shoulder. “Always nice to meet a fan.”

“I was on your squad once!” Jisung blurted, then clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Oh, your voice is familiar! Did we talk?”

“A little… I gave you a few assists.”

Chenle grinned. “What username?”

Jeno coughed behind his hand, seeming to hide a smile.

“Oh… that isn’t important...” Jisung said.

“Why? I’ll add you to my friends list and we can play sometime!”

That made Jeno really laugh, baffling both Jaemin and Chenle, and Jisung looked like he might be sick.

Finally, he whispered, “It’s… PoopHandsPark.” He hid his face.

Chenle exploded laughing. “It is not! Dude that’s awful, why?”

Looking miserable, Jisung whined, “Dont judge me, I was eight when I made it!”

“Well it’s false, obviously, since you’re good at assists. I want to hear the story behind it, though!”

Eyes bright at the attention, Jisung poured out the story, and Jaemin casually pulled Jeno away by the arm to let the two get friendly.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked Jeno.

“Maybe later, what I really want is to dance.”

Jaemin gaped, stunned.

“You want to dance?” Jaemin vaguely knew that was an element of the evening, but. Jeno dancing. Jeno...dancing?

“Yeah, y’know?” Jeno illustrated, rocking his shoulders forward and back. “Dance. With you.” He angled them toward where a DJ table and speakers pumped out pop-y tunes, the music run by some duo advertised as JohnD & JaeD, both taller guys in backwards caps nodding to the beat.

The floor wasn’t too full and they found a good spot, and Jeno simply started moving. And oh, he was not exactly good, but Jaemin had never seen dancing he liked better.

After a couple songs, the music turned softer and Jaemin pulled Jeno close without hesitation.

“You’re my new favorite dancer ever,” he said.

Jeno looked the happy side of embarrassed. “It’s fun. We should dance more.”

Jaemin nodded, but felt a twinge. Hard to do, long distance.

As the song went on, Jeno gripped Jaemin’s hand tighter. He looked pensive, his lip between his teeth getting gnawed.

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

“Oh. The—” Jaemin swallowed, “—the moving thing? If it stressed you out, you can just forget it.”

“No, I’m not stressed, I just was thinking. If you were nearby, we could play the same circuit. But… I’d want to see you more. Like every day.”

Jaemin’s heart fluttered. “Oh. Ok well, I’d just find something really close.”

Jeno nodded, slow. “Or, you could just move in with me.”

Jaemin sat down. In the middle of the parquet dance floor, his legs just quit.

“Oh. Move in.”

Jeno crouched next to him. “Yes, with me. Um… are you ok?”

“Oh yeah, I’m good. Real good just… needed a quick sit.”

It was one too many things to take in, all in the same evening.

Jeno wearing fitted jeans. Jeno styling his hair, wanting to dance. Jeno asking Jaemin if he wanted to live in the same house.

“Should I get you some water?”

Jaemin shook his head, grabbed Jeno’s hands. “Nope. Help me up.” Once he did, Jaemin threw his arms around him tight.

“Do you really want me to move in with you?” he asked, under the music still playing, cheek smushed to Jeno’s neck and eyes closed in contentment.

Jeno patted his back. “I think I’d like it.”

“Well then I—oh. Hey.” Eyes open, Jaemin was met with Mark, his face full of intrigue.

“Hey. Sorry to uh, interrupt.”

“Nope, no problem,” Jaemin took control of his own weight again, feeling like his chest was full of champagne. He felt the words tumble out before he could stop them. “We’re gonna live together!”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up. Jeno sighed, blushing.

Mark took it in stride, fortunately. “Congrats on that. I’m...gonna go to Worlds, I guess? Anyway! Just wanted to say, that was one of the best matches I’ve played in the league. No, it was the best, really. Thanks, Jeno.”

Secondhand pride flowed in Jaemin for Jeno, his gamer bf.

“You too, they’re going to be impressed at Worlds,” Jeno offered back, rocking on his heels and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t look nearly as uncomfortable talking to a near stranger as he used to.

“Ah, thanks. Hey, want to come hangout at my table? They gave me all this free Prosecco.”

Too hard to turn down, they joined the table and eventually pulled Chenle and Jisung over as well. That was enough to burn through several bottles and a few platters of food, until Jaemin felt full and tired and more than happy.

“Want to get out of here?”

The second the elevator doors closed Jaemin pressed Jeno to the wall and knocked their foreheads together. He felt excitement like a shaken soda bottle, fizzing and needing to be released, and only Jeno’s lips would do the trick.

“Come to my room?”Jaemin asked, a breathy whisper.

“For the night?” questioned Jeno.

For however long Jaemin could get. “Sure, why not.” He pressed a kiss to Jeno’s cheek.

“Can we sleep together?”

“That would be the idea. There’s just the one bed,” Jaemin chuckled, nosing along his cheekbone.

“No like, can we… sleep together.”

The elevator door dinged, opened, shut again, all while Jaemin processed. It was slow. He’d run out of power for being surprised.

“Do you want that?” he finally asked.

“It’s been a while,” said Jeno, using his fallback reasoning, but this time it wouldn’t suffice for Jaemin.

“Ok, but do you want it?”

As the elevator threatened to move, Jeno darted a hand to the ‘door open’ button.

“I think,” he said, gently pushing Jaemin out the opening, “I really just want you. It was all I thought about today. I wanted to win, but I wanted you even more.”

Maybe it was the dredges of bubbly in his system, but Jaemin was pretty sure he’d never heard anything more romantic. But then, most people he knew were not poets. He barely noticed the hallway, too absorbed in the dark of Jeno’s eyes, until his shoulder blades hit his room door.

There was a giddy sweetness to stumbling into the hotel room, to Jeno trying to undo Jaemin’s belt buckle in the same timing as Jaemin struggled to push the blazer off Jeno’s shoulders. All messy and uncoordinated, and Jaemin didn’t so much lay down as fall onto the bed, tripping over his own shoes. He pulled Jeno by the polo collar, but with one knee on the mattress Jeno stopped. “Wait, one second,” he said, straightening, and Jaemin watched, baffled, as Jeno fussed with his phone, then set it on the wardrobe as music started to pour from the speaker.

It was smooth jazz, all low and groovy, muffled trumpet and sultry piano. He turned back, and Jaemin realized he put it on to set the mood(the mood was already set. Jaemin nearly lost it).

“Jazz?”

“It’s sexy. You have to admit.”

Jaemin didn’t, couldn’t, too busy smiling so wide his face ached, almost too endeared to function. He dropped his head on the bed and laughed in delight.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing, oh my god. You’re incredible. Take that polo off and come here, I’m gonna treat you so right, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno complied, polo and glasses put aside, and with sensual notes of trombone in the background Jaemin pulled him into a toe-curling kiss. Maybe neither of them won the tournament, but skin-to-skin with Jeno, city lights glowing in through the window in dark orange hues, Jaemin felt sure they won something much better.

“This is yours,” Jeno said, in unfortunate timing with Jaemin unable to see him behind the large box in his arms. Once free of it, Jaemin held out his hand to accept what Jeno offered: a key, a backup really to the digital keypad on the door, but a little gold key just the same.

Heart swelling, Jaemin admired it and what it meant. “Last chance, if I put this in my pocket you’re stuck with me indefinitely. Don’t forget—I un-ironically enjoy playing Monkey Ball on my old GameCube.”

Jeno plucked the key from his hand only to tuck it in Jaemin’s back pocket.

He patted the pocket—consequently, also butt—and shrugged. “GameCube is cool. I think. Let’s get the other boxes.”

Moving Jaemin in took most of the day, but every box they brought made it feel that much more real. Soon, his collection of various sized spatulas sat in the kitchen next to the stove and a kettle(still in box, which had been there when Jaemin arrived), and all his gaming equipment waited in a neat stack beside the gaming haven door to soon be incorporated.

“I see you got a vacuum,” Jaemin noted, as they chugged water when the last boxes were retrieved.

Jeno rolled his eyes. “Had to. Have this rug that traps dust. I’ve got allergies.”

“Of course you do. Of course. Don’t worry, I’ll dust.”

“Dust what?”

Jaemin shrugged. “Everything. Once we get some more furniture.”

Jeno chewed his lip, considering, and said, “Maybe a real couch would be good.”

If he could imagine that, Jaemin knew it wouldn’t be long before they would both feel at home in the space, arranged just how they wanted it. While Jeno put an order in for Jisung to bring chicken, Jaemin surveyed the apartment, and saw only potential.

That’s where they are now, in the middle of an ever-evolving potential together. And Jaemin, well, he still thinks people underestimate Jeno, and it’s a little bit because he’s in love with him. He couldn’t not be, after all the ways Jeno surprised him, continues to every day.

Whether it’s a game strategy Jaemin just watches in awe, or Jeno admitting he thinks interior decorating is kinda fun, actually, it’s always something. LJN0 may dominate the league scoreboards, but Jeno dominates Jaemin’s heart like no one else, and that’s the stat that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> anyway i hope u all enjoyed jazz loving bowlcut gamer jeno & his #1 admirer normal-jaemin. they live happily ever after. mark goes to England & meets renjun. chenji game 2gether. hyuck joins a monastery. (im kidding. he also goes to England just for fun & u can all imagine a markrenhyuck sequel.)
> 
> i have twt & cc. they’re both imjaebabie. :))


End file.
